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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327319">what pride had wrought</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_aboard/pseuds/all_aboard'>all_aboard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition, The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>? - Freeform, Angst, Awkward Romance, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Dragon Age AU, Ever - Freeform, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jon has to lie to him so that he does, M/M, Serious Injuries, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, a lot of tags because I dont know how to simplify literally anything, and the aftermath of said magic, but don't worry he'll be fine, but only sort of, elias flavored bullshit, it's martin but it's only vaguely touched on, martin's in the fucking infirmary because elias is a dickhead, martin's stubborn, maybe? - Freeform, okay I lied actually this is more than sort of angsty, won't take his fucking MEDICINE</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:42:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24327319</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_aboard/pseuds/all_aboard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"He was saying something to me, but I don’t remember what exactly. Something about being a part of something bigger.” Here, his voice began to shake a little, but he gave a little rueful chuckle to mask it. “You know. Typical venatori bullshit.”<br/>-<br/>more dragon age au stuff that's still kind of out of context but i'm working on it<br/>Forgive if it seems rushed or weird I have ADHD and i've been working on this for 3 days</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Jonmartin - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what pride had wrought</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>spoilers for What Pride Had Wrought but again only vaguely. The well of sorrows is mentioned and morrigan is implied to have drank from it but it's never actually addressed, it's mostly focused on Martin and Jon</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Inquisitor," a small voice pulled him out of his work, Jon moving his attention from the scattered reports from his various advisors and over towards a small messenger boy who stood sheepishly in the doorway, unsure if he should enter. His hands gripped at the ends of his shorts nervously, stiffening when Jon looked at him and made a small grunt of acknowledgement, beckoning for him to enter.</p><p>The boy did not do so. Instead, he puffed his chest out a bit and spoke. "The healers sent me to, um, tell you that Martin's going to be fine. A-And that the last traces of your master's magic are finally beginning to disappear." Jon involuntarily let out a small huff of relief, gaze dropping down to the papers in front of him once again. He wouldn't admit how relieved the news actually made him, and also wouldn't admit how worried he had been that the damage Elias's magic did to Martin would have been irreversible.</p><p>"Oh," he breathed with a little smile, letting his eyes fall shut. "Good." The small boy watched curiously, fiddling with his hands some more before starting again. </p><p>"But, they are still having problems with him. He's," here the boy paused, face scrunching up and eyebrows furrowing as if he were trying to remember exactly what he was meant to be saying. "He's refusing his poultices, now. And he's still not letting the mages go near him."</p><p>Jon lifted his head again and looked at the messenger, frowning slightly. He was afraid of that. "Can I go and visit him?" He questioned, already rising from his comfortable chair. The boy looked at him, unsure. </p><p>"I don't know, ser. They didn't tell me anything about that, just said to give you the message." He said, voice dropping again as Jon walked over to the doorway. He was silent for a few moments before giving the messenger a light smile.</p><p>"Thank you. You did a good job." He said, eventually, gently brushing the boy aside and exiting his study, leaving the boy behind in the doorway.</p><p>It wasn't a long trip down to the clinic, now that it was in Skyhold's courtyard. It was right by the requisition building, and Jon was honestly grateful that the carpenters had allowed him to choose what he thought was best. He wasn't sure if they'd have a clinic at all if that weren't the case.</p><p>It was actually going inside that was the hard part. He still wasn’t sure if he was allowed to actually Go In and See Martin given his current state. The first time he went to visit was after they had returned from The Well of Sorrows, when the magic Elias had him under was still flowing strongly through him. When Jon had entered then, Martin had attempted to lunge at him. His injuries stopped him from getting very far, of course, but the healers insisted that Jon stay away until they were sure that the magic wouldn’t cause him to lash out again.</p><p>He guessed he would find out, wouldn’t he? As he reached to push open the door, he heard a commotion inside and what sounded like a dish clattering against the floor, as well as the very angry scolding of one of the healers inside. Quickly, he opened the door and peered in, not daring to go inside fully unless he had permission. It had been sort of what he expected, but also not really. Martin was sat back on the cot, arms folded stubbornly against his chest and his head upturned and facing away from the healer beside him, who was working to clean up whatever he had just spilled. Jon had to stifle a laugh before he could disturb either of them. Though Martin already looked quite disturbed by the healer simply by him being there and trying to get him to take his medicine.</p><p>Jon decided to wait, then, by the doorway for the healer to notice him. Or Martin. Whoever came first, really. Some part of him hoped it would be Martin, but at the same time he knew that it wouldn't be safe. Eventually the healer stood up from where he was knelt again, glaring daggers at Martin as he rolled up the used washcloth that was now soaked in what Jon could only assume what used to be a poultice, and shoved it into the pocket of his coat. </p><p>“Really, Martin, I understand that you don’t like the taste of it, but you need to drink it or you’ll never get better.” He heard him say, then heard Martin give a non-committal noise in response before the healer looked over to see who had entered.</p><p>“Inquisitor! What are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d be coming in today!” he spoke, very much sounding surprised. Maybe a touch irritated, at the messenger boy, Jon would guess. Or Martin. Probably Martin. Martin moved his head to look in his direction, feeling his heart twist painfully.</p><p>He was clearly still in a lot of pain. He did a good job of masking it, of course he did, he always did. But even without the bandages it’d be obvious that he was suffering from some sort of wound. His eyes were glazed over and beads of sweat clung to his forehead, pupils dilated from whatever they were drugging him with to fend off at least a little bit of the discomfort. It was obviously wearing off, though. There were little dots all along his arms and face whereever the healers could not cover with bandages, where the blood had burned through Martin’s skin. He also looked so, so tired. Jon wanted nothing more than to walk over and run his hand through his curly hair, brush it out of his eyes and tell him it’d be okay. He almost forgot to answer the healer because he was so caught up in the state of Martin.</p><p>“Oh, right. I came by to check on Martin. I got your message.” he said, and the healer gave a little nod, looking warily at Martin. Jon stood where he was patiently. “Well, he doesn’t seem to want to kill you.” He concluded, looking back at Jon. “You’re welcome to visit anytime, Inquisitor. But if anything changes in Martin’s behavior we’re going to need to separate him from everyone else again.”</p><p>Jon gave a small nod, and made his way over when the healer gave him permission. The entire time, Martin didn’t take his eyes off of him, watching him almost curiously. He gave the not-elf a little smile and set himself down after a stool was brought to him. “I will go and re-mix the poultice he so helpfully spilled on the ground. Don’t let him get up.” he was told, and Jon simply nodded, not taking his eyes off of Martin as the healer left the clinic.<br/>
As soon as the door was shut, Martin seemed to relax, his eyelids drooping to the point where he couldn’t really tell if he was looking at him or not. He heard him sigh. “Thank the maker.” The not-elf mumbled, a hand coming up and rubbing down his face. His voice was barely there and Jon once again felt guilty, knowing it was him who landed him here in the first place. “How are you holding up? Need anything?” The mage found himself asking, for lack of anything else better to say.</p><p>“Oh, I’m just great. Would be even better if they’d stop treating me like glass.” Martin responded after finding his words, forcing himself to speak a little louder for Jon. He turned his head and moved his hand back down to rest over his chest, holding the blanket there a bit protectively, letting out a huff of a laugh. “Better though. Now that you’re here.”</p><p>Jon shifted on the stool to get more comfortable and give himself something better to do than not stare at Martin, flattered and embarrassed at the same time. “That’s… Good. I’m glad.” he said, feeling Martin’s eyes on him. He didn’t really know what to say, now, and the silence was beginning to get awkward. His ears felt like something had just lit them on fire.</p><p>Martin shifted on his cot so he was laying on his side and facing Jon fully, hand still firmly holding the blanket over his chest. Jon met his eyes sheepishly, which got a tiny smile from the man sitting across from him. “What’s going on, Jon?” he asked quietly. Almost like he read Jon’s mind. He does that a lot.</p><p>Jon sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck, mouth opening and then closing a few times as he gathered his words. “Tell me, Martin, do you… Actually remember anything that happened back at the temple?” He asked, not having very much else to ask him. He did genuinely want to know, but he also didn’t want to burden Martin with it, either. He felt that maybe it was too early for it. Maybe he shouldn’t have come.</p><p> Martin’s eyebrows pushed together slightly and he gave a little noise, straining to remember.</p><p>“I remember Elias. And blood. A lot of blood. He cut himself, I think. Inside his sleeve. I saw it dripping down his arm.” He started, Jon scooting his stool forward just a little bit, to be closer to Martin. His eyes trailed down to his free hand, which hung off the bed limply as he spoke. “Then it’s…It hurt. It hurt really bad, Jon. It felt like burning, but all over my body. And so much worse than just burning from fire or the sun. He was saying something to me, but I don’t remember what exactly. Something about being a part of something bigger.” Here, his voice began to shake a little, but he gave a little rueful chuckle to mask it. “You know. Typical venatori bullshit.”</p><p>Jon’s heart ached for the man in front of him, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching over to take Martin’s hand and rub his thumb comfortingly over his knuckles. Martin seemed a little startled at the contact, looking over at Jon with widened eyes. “You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bringing things up, Martin. I know it really isn’t the best time, considering you’re… Still recovering.” he said in a small voice, Martin’s hand curling around his own weakly.<br/>
Martin only gave a little nod in response, his eyes sliding shut for a moment as he tried to steady his breathing again. “I can still feel it. Sort of. The urge?” he lifted his gaze to meet Jon’s eyes, frowning deeply. “To hurt. You, the people, the healers. I don’t want this.”</p><p>Jon frowned at him. “I know, Martin. I know. It’s not you, I promise. It’s Elias’s magic. I know you wouldn’t hurt anybody on purpose.” he said in a comforting tone, not really knowing what to say. He’s never done this before. Comforting someone, that is. Martin stared at him solemnly for a few beats, soon looking back down to the blanket draped over him. “I suppose.”</p><p>They fell into a silence for the rest of the time until the healer finally returned with his poultice, standing on the other side of Martin’s cot with the bowl held more firmly in his hands this time. He looked between the two men skeptically, eyes staying on Jon. “Here. Maybe you can convince him to drink it. He seems to like you more.”</p><p>Jon regarded the healer with an amused expression as he held the bowl out to him, just out of Martin’s reach so he couldn’t knock it onto the ground again. Martin gave a small groan of protest as Jon took the bowl into his hands and the healer went back towards the entrance to give them some space. “I’ll be right outside, if you need anything.” he said before he exited once more.</p><p>“I don’t know why you’re acting so stubborn over this, Martin.” He said, once he was gone, smiling at the man beside him. “It smells just fine to me.”</p><p>“Yeah, to you, maybe. You’re not a half elf cursed with a heightened sense of everything.” he complained, folding his arms across his chest again and pouting at Jon, who just shook his head and gave an airy laugh, making Martin stick his bottom lip even more.</p><p>“Look, look. Watch this,” he grinned at Martin now, balancing the bowl in the palm of one of his hands and waving his newly freed one over the rim of the bowl. “I can make it taste better for you. Just like that.” </p><p>Martin watched skeptically, eyes narrowing at Jon as he continued, his hands beginning to glow with magic over the bowl, casting the room in a blue light for a brief few moments. “There! See? Tastes better now.” he said with a cheeky expression, noticing his skepticism. “Oh, come on, Martin. What, do you want me to drink it?” He asked, receiving a curt nod in response.</p><p>Jon rolled his eyes, bringing the bowl to his lips carefully and tipping it back slightly, just enough that it looked like he actually drank it, but he didn’t. He lowered the bowl and ran his tongue over his lips for extra measure. “See? It’s good now.” He insisted, Martin still looking skeptical as he hesitantly reached for the bowl. He sniffed at it experimentally and scrunched up his nose a little, but finally brought it to his lips and took a swig. He gagged almost immediately but didn’t spit it out, surprisingly, swallowing with a great effort and a shudder. He looked at him suddenly as Jon let out a hearty laugh, narrowing his eyes angrily. “You lied to me!”</p><p>“Yeah, but it got you to drink it, didn’t it?” He smirked, leaning forward a bit more and chuckling as Martin huffed and forced himself to drink the rest of it, dropping the bowl on the floor beside him when it was empty. “You’re mean. You’re a bad person, Inquisitor.” he frowned, speaking with mock hurt. “I think you owe me something in return, you meanie.”</p><p>Jon raised an eyebrow at him at that, smiling smugly. “Oh yeah? And what would you like in return for it, then?” he asked, watching Martin think about it before he turned his head and pointed to his face. “A kiss.” he said with a grin, very much catching Jon off guard. He sputtered and looked at him with wide eyes, mouth agape. It was Martin’s turn to laugh at him, laying back against the cot again and adjusting the blanket so it wouldn’t fall off. “Of course, if you’re too much of a coward… You can just subject yourself to eating Cassandra’s cooking for a night.”</p><p>Jon let out a little disgruntled noise. “You’re not giving me very much choice, are you? Very well. Come here.” He said, reaching for Martin’s hand to pull him back up, Martin making a little noise of alarm, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait- wait- I wasn’t actually serious-” He started to babble as heat rushed to his face, Jon leaning in to press his lips against Martin’s, hesitantly. They were barely brushing against each other for a moment before Jon pulled away again. He looked at Martin with a somewhat serious expression, both staring at each other for a long few moments. </p><p>Eventually, Martin was the one who broke the silence, letting out a little giddy huff of a laugh and covering his face with one of his hands, looking away from Jon and shrugging up his shoulders. “Sweet maker,” he mumbled, hiding his grin. Jon watched with an amused expression, letting out his own little laugh and running a hand through his hair.</p><p>“Well, Martin. I suppose now that you’ve taken your medicine I should be going now.” He said, standing himself up. “I’ve also got a few things to take care of.”</p><p>Martin was silent, Jon waiting patiently for him to speak up. “Will you….” he started, clearing his throat. “Will you be back later? Or, again?” he asked in a small voice, looking up at him sheepishly. The mage gave him a small smile and nodded. “Of course. If you’ll have me, that is.” he said, beginning to walk towards the exit. “And, Martin? I do hope this doesn’t become a routine. It would be a shame if I had to come up with some new ways to make you take your medicine.” he said, Martin grumbling something incoherent and flopping back into bed. When Jon exited, he allowed himself to grin even wider and let out another giddy laugh, biting his lip and staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>Maybe he will make it a routine.</p>
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